Redemption
by BlackThunderStrikes
Summary: HG/SS Romance/Angst. There's a time in Hermione's life where everything seems to go wrong. She is assaulted and has to live in silence and fear, and she attempts to take her life. Can Severus Snape bring justice? Rated M for Rape, Torture and violence.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note:

Hi guys, this is my first story EVER. I'm new, so, I don't really know how to get a beta, so PLEASE excuse me for my mistakes. I read it myself, but, yeah. You know, I'm not perfect and my writing skills are far from perfect. Review, and PLEASE give me advice!

**Disclaimer**: I LOVE J.K. ROWLING! Out of my love for Severus, I make a fan-fic! HOW COULD YOU J.K. ROWLING! Ok, if you haven't gotten the gist, NONE OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE MINE.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

The Burrow was as busy, cluttered and homely as ever. But sadness seemed to radiate from it.

"Can you please pass the marmalade over?" Ginny asked.

"Oi! Give me some butter, don't hog it all." George quipped.

It was especially busy during breakfast. Or rather, any meal, as long as it was held at the Burrow. But it was overhung with a melancholy atmosphere. They could all feel the loss of Fred's presence keenly, and it affected them all.

Hermione sighed as she picked listlessly at her plate piled up with toast, eggs and bacon. She didn't have an appetite as usual. Molly shook her head disapprovingly as she spied the untouched contents of Hermione's plate.

"You have to eat if you want to have energy, dear." Molly clucked.

Hermione sighed wearily as she picked up her fork. She glared at the bacon then speared a bit with her fork before lifting it up toward her mouth. She chewed quickly and methodically before swallowing, trying to hold back the bile that rose to her throat.

Molly smiled, "That's more like it, dearie. Ron!"

"What?" Ron asked sleepily as he rubbed his eyes.

"You've slept until noon! Hurry up and eat your breakfast!" Molly cried irritably.

"You can hardly call it breakfast when it's noon" Ron grumbled. "Morning."

"Morning" The table chorused.

He made his way over to the table where he plonked himself down next to Hermione and casually slung his arm around her shoulders. She stiffened slightly, but he did not notice. His stomach gave a great growl and he hurriedly set to gorging himself, removing his arm as he did so. She sighed in relief then continued picking at her breakfast. She had always liked him as a brother, but it seemed that he liked her differently. Even if he had not openly declared it.

Suddenly she stood up. Everyone looked at her curiously.

"I'm not hungry. I guess I'll just go back up. I'll see you all later." Hermione said quietly as she trudged up the stairs to lock herself within her room and reminisce.

They had won the war. Voldemort was dead. The whole world was now safe from psychotic megalomaniacs. But it was not without consequences. 'Of course not' she thought bitterly. More than 50 Hogwarts students had died, many of them her friends. All of them had been loved.

She sat down on her bed and closed her eyes. Cradling her head – which a headache was threatening to split open – in her hands, she allowed the memories to assault her.

She remembered the day after Voldemort had been beaten. She remembered hearing the desolate grief-stricken cries of the families whose son or daughter had sacrificed themselves for that cause. She remembered how they had moved Voldemort's body and laid it somewhere away from the bodies of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin Creevey and many others.

Hot tears trickled down her face and onto the table. Why had so many died?

"Hermione?" Harry's concerned face peeked from the doorway.

Damn, she'd forgotten to lock the door.

"Are you okay?" His voice broke into her thoughts again.

She lifted her head up and glared at him. "Do you THINK I'm okay?" She said furiously. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Why did so many people have to die?" She shook slightly and covered her face again as she sobbed.

Harry strode over and hugged her.

"I know, Hermione, I know." He soothed her as she sobbed into his chest.

"I can't help but feel guilty that I lived and was crowned a hero, while so many died who deserved the title much more than me. True, they were acknowledged, but they were paid such little attention." She whispered bitterly.

Harry hugged her harder then stood up. "Let's go pack. After all, we're going back to Hogwarts this afternoon."

She nodded and tried to smile, but failed horribly. Harry nodded then left.

She wiped her face and sniffed. She couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement at the prospect of another year at Hogwarts. She grinned as she imagined all the classes she would take, and wondered dreamily about her NEWTS score.

One hour later, she came down. Her face was cheerful, and the melancholy feeling that had possessed everyone was gone. In its place was excitement and nervousness. She beamed around at everyone, the expression was mirrored.

Suddenly there was a commotion in the kitchen. An owl had just slammed into the window and was now picking itself up in a dignified manner. Everyone crowded around curiously as Harry, who was nearest to the owl, detached the message from the owl.

"It's a letter for Hermione." Harry declared and passed her the letter before feeding the grateful owl a bit of left over bacon. The owl nipped his finger affectionately before flying back out the window.

Everyone now looked at Hermione, curiosity evident in their eyes.

"To Hermione Granger."Hermione read out. "It's from Hogwarts!"

"Well, hurry up and open it then" Ron encouraged her with a nudge in the ribs.

He had grown taller and put on quite a bit of weight, which naturally made him stronger. She winced and glared at him. With shaking hands she slowly opened her letter. Her eyes widened as she silently read the contents.

With shining eyes and a grin that reached from ear to ear she exclaimed, "I've been made headgirl!"

Harry and Ron grinned and offered their congratulations while Ginny outright squealed and gave her a bone-crushing hug. Hermione couldn't help but notice how Ron looked a bit crestfallen. She patted his back sympathetically and offered him a smile. His lips lifted half-heartedly.

"What's this?" Harry picked up a piece of paper that had fallen out of the envelope. He scrutinised it for a second before wincing and held it out to Hermione.

"Ouch" Harry said sympathetically. "I feel sorry for you, Draco's been made headboy…"

* * *

Ginny gasped, Ron blanched and Hermione just sighed wearily.

They all gave one last lingering look at the Burrow before leaving. Filled with excitement, they held their heads up high to face another year at Hogwarts.

There was a great deal of crying and wet kisses, mostly on Molly Weasley's behalf. After they had finally been released from her death-hug, they stumbled on to the train.

"Ouch," Harry winced as he rubbed his ribs. "Molly hugs _hard_."

"And her kisses are so _wet_," complained Hermione.

"And she's my mum," grumbled Ron.

The train was crowded as usual, and nearly every single compartment was full. At long last, they peeked through a door and found an empty compartment. Ron plopped down, and Harry collapsed on the seats, sighing dramatically. Ginny and Hermione shook their heads and sat down with a tad too much dignity. Ginny folded her hands on her lap and sniffed disdainfully. At last, they could bear it no longer and burst out giggling.

"Am I interrupting something?" A dreamy voice floated from the door way.

They looked up to see Luna smiling down at them while Neville peeked around her.

"No, you're not interrupting anything, come on in! Make yourselves comfortable," Hermione gushed happily.

"Seems like forever since I last saw you guys," Neville grinned.

But the grins all faded as they remembered that the last time that he had seen them was during the aftermath of the battle with Voldemort.

"So, how were your holidays?" Neville said uncomfortably.

They relaxed slightly and started chatting about the holidays, but there was still an undercurrent of tension crackling in the air.

Suddenly the door slid open and they were presented with Draco's arrogant, sneering face.

"My my, what a cosy gathering we have here," he sneered.

Harry stiffened, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Well, if you didn't know, I'm _headboy_, Potter. Watch that tone," he leered before sniffing disdainfully. "Granger, we are to escort the first years to the castle as soon as we have arrived. Make sure you aren't late."

With another sniff, he left, slamming the door shut. Everyone in that compartment glared at him for several seconds after he left.

Suddenly Hermione felt an intense weariness and leant back in the seat. The constant rocking of the train and the comforting buzz of conversation eventually lulled her to sleep.

By the time she woke up it was dark outside, the full moon shined softly into the compartment. She yawned and stretched deliciously. She had woken up just in time for the train to arrive.

Hogwarts was deliciously warm compared to the freezing outside. First years gazed with unhidden delight and amazement at everything around them. Hermione smiled slightly as she remembered her first glimpse of the castle. Moving portraits and floating candles were but few of the fascinating things that had bewitched her. Bracing herself, she looked at Draco and he nodded at her.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. There are four houses here, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Shortly after, you will enter through these doors and be sorted into these houses. Hogwarts shall be your home, and the people in your house will be your family." Hermione took a deep breath, and smiled at the first years who were staring up at her reverently.

"You may now enter," intoned Draco.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his dramatic sentence.

The doors opened and she was assaulted at once by the loud chattering of hundreds of children. Closing her eyes slightly, she absorbed all of these sounds in.

* * *

GIVE ME YOUR ADVICE!


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note:**

Wow, that was fast. Two chapters in two days. I know it's boring, but wait, I think next chapter the plot will start kicking in. Sorry, still no beta.

**Disclaimer: **NOT MINE, not mine. J.K. Rowling gets all the money and fame and power… T^T… If I had power, Severus would not have died.

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

Severus Snape rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the pounding headache that pulsed right between his eyebrows. His eyes smouldered, fiery black coals in a pale face, curtained by raven black, limp, lank, lifeless hair. Add that to his forbidding signature scowl and his menacing countenance, he was enough to make a fourth year cry just by looking at him.

He poked at his porridge, trying to fight down the nausea as he saw it had congealed and was now a soggy solid lump. He glared at the food.

"Come now, Severus, if you continue scowling it will become permanent." Filius squeaked.

Minerva snorted, "I think it already is, nothing can wipe it off his face. Now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen Severus smile. Even when he was a first year, always that serious face." She shook her head exasperatedly.

The person in question leered at both of them. "I see nothing worth smiling about, and everything worth scowling at. The most recent would be the idiots surrounding me."

Minerva tried to pretend to be indignant, but failed. "Well of course, no one can compare to _your_ intelligence."

Severus smirked and turned back to scowl at his porridge. The disgusting lump of goo seemed to tremble in fear. Pushing away the bowl he stood up.

"Done already, Severus?" Minerva said in a tone of mock-surprise.

"What does it seem like, Minerva?" Severus retorted, and swept off in a swirl of black robes.

"That man certainly does have a flair for the dramatic," observed Minerva. She sighed and turned back to her half eaten toast.

* * *

Severus hated the start of school. It meant another year of teaching brainless dunderheads. When you were teaching them, you could almost literally see the information going through one ear and out the other. They were idiots. He couldn't imagine how in the world they could have passed their OWLS, let alone their NEWTS. He knew he would especially hate this year. This would be the last year that Potter and his friends had to spend at Hogwarts. Being a seventh year would make Potter even more unbearable than usual. Especially since he would believe that he was better than others just because the Ministry of Magic already had a spot reserved for him in the auror training program.

The lines in his face creased as he scowled even more heavily than what was thought humanely possible. He strode along the empty halls of Hogwarts, mourning the fact that later it would be filled with students. He took comfort from the fact that he would be able to swoop upon unsuspecting students and deduct points or give them detention.

He was getting old. True, he was 38 years old, but he felt weary to the bones. He came to a stop outside his quarters. He tapped his ebony wand on the lock and lowered his wards. It was freezing cold. He shivered slightly and pointed his wand at the fireplace. It immediately burst into flames and heated up the room. The flames danced and leapt in his fireplace, like dryads and pixies whirling around in an ancient rite. He shook his head to dispel his thoughts. He was easily distracted these days.

He took off his robes and flung them onto the couch. He summoned a glass and a bottle of firewhisky. He sat down and poured himself a cup. Rolling the cup between his fingers, he turned his mind to the time of the battle.

"_Please…Severus…"Dumbledore pleaded._

_Severus' face contorted into a grimace of pure loathing and hate. Severus had always obeyed him, always did as he asked. Now the doddering old fool had asked him to take his life. Hatred twisted within him. He had been the one responsible for Lily's demise. He had unknowingly killed her. Now, filled with regret and guilt, he had flung himself into his work, shutting away his heart, which had grown cold and hard. He worked hard to redeem himself, used his body and soul. Risked his life countless of times. All for the old manipulative fool._

"_AVADA KEDAVRA" _

_A flash of sickly green pierced the night, then Dumbledore was falling. Falling and falling to his death. A muted thud as he landed._

_Nausea curled within his stomach and bile rose to his throat. Turning around he fell to his knees and retched onto the cold stones. _

_The old fool had finally demanded something. Something that would tarnish Severus' soul forever. He had demanded Severus to take his life. _

_Loathing flooded his senses. Loathing at himself. Loathing, self-hate, rage. He had killed the man who had almost seemed like a father to him. His best-friend. His master._

"_I did this for Lily," Severus spat angrily._

_Shouts came from the stairwell._

_Severus composed his face and turned around to face _

Severus gasped, sweat rolled down his face, and his head felt like it had exploded. Groaning, he threw the contents of the cup down his throat, grimacing as fire seemed to spread through his chest.

"Curse you, Albus."

* * *

What would Severus wear to the welcoming dinner? He would wear his signature black robes, frock coat, trousers and shoes. After donning everything, Severus reluctantly dragged himself to the first dinner of the year.

It would be filled with the chattering of hundreds of students. An eyesore. Not to mention the sorting. Hopefully there would be some children worthy of the house, Slytherin.

He sat down at the head table with a flourish, his robes settling around him satisfactorily. He surveyed the doors. Soon they would open and the children would stampede in. They would sit themselves at the tables and gorge themselves. Disgusting.

At least the headboy was one of Slytherin, more importantly, someone he favoured. It was Draco, his godson. He smirked, but the smirk was soon wiped off when another thought occurred to him. The headgirl would be Granger, one of Potter's fervent worshipers. She was an insufferable hand-waving know-it-all. He sneered. She had buck teeth, an unmanageable mane of hair and was a Gryffindor through and through. She was also Minerva's favourite student.

He knew it when they were near. He could hear the dull droning that was their voices. His suspicions were confirmed as the doors slowly swung open.

Students flowed into the hall, splitting up into four groups and occupying their tables according to houses. Walking from behind, Draco and Granger lead the first years in. Draco walked with his back straight and his chin up high, pride flashed briefly within Severus. His eyes snapped to the person accompanying Draco. Granger had briefly stopped, and her eyes were closed. He sneered nastily. She had probably been briefly possessed by some sentimental rubbish.

They herded the first years up to crowd in front of the tables, before the sorting hat. The sorting hat opened its eyes. If you could call it eyes, more like two deep shadows within the recesses of wrinkles. Minerva tapped her goblet with spoon. It rang, high and pure, and reverberated throughout the room, all the chatter stopped to be replaced with blessed silence.

A rip opened near the base of the sorting hat like a mouth, and it began to sing.

"_Hear me now and listen well,_

_A new year has begun._

_In the previous year an evil force fell,_

_A new song shall be sung._

_Beware, beware,_

_Beware of strife._

_Take care, take care,_

_Mischief is rife._

_But moving on to joyous things,_

_I'm sure you're all hungry,_

_So let's see what this year brings._

_Put me onto your little head,_

_And lay your secrets bare._

_I'm sure you want to go to bed,_

_Put me on, I dare._

_Put me on and you will see,_

_I will see into your heart._

_See where you ought to be,_

_Will you be in Gryffindor where bravery sets you apart?_

_Where loyalty, courage, daring and nerve are true._

_Or will you be in Ravenclaw where brains are more important than brawn?_

_Where wise and clever people brew,_

_Or will it be Slytherin, cunning, sly snakes,_

_Who slither and hiss, behind the scenes,_

_Who do whatever it takes._

_And they use whatever the means._

_Or will it be Hufflepuff, the most joyous house,_

_Who are loyal and unafraid to do their part._

_Although almost as shy as a mouse,_

_Hufflepuff is a true loving house, who love with all their hearts."_

The sorting hat finished its song with a flourish, and grew unnaturally still. Applauding shattered the almost hypnotic spell the hat had managed to cast. The first years looked stunned, and turned to each other to begin whispering. Minerva cleared her throat and tapped her goblet again. The whispers slowly died away as the children gazed expectantly up at Minerva.

"Agnes, Ross"

A small boy with brown hair who was visibly shaking walked up to the stool, sat down, and had the hat put on his head.

"Hufflepuff!" cried the hat as soon as it touched his head

With a sigh of relief, the boy walked as fast as he could to the Hufflepuff table, almost tripping over his feet in his haste to reach the table, where he could join his brothers.

"Aldera, Jamie"

* * *

A tiny blonde haired girl scrambled up to sit on the stool.

This was going to be a long dinner. But the saddest thing was, he could not leave without attracting unwanted attention. Sighing in defeat, he could only watch in utter boredom as children were sorted into their houses.

* * *

I will hopefully update at least once a week.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So, wassup peoples. Some part of the plot has finally kicked in. A MINOR MINOR bit. Anyway, YAY! Snape and Hermione meet for the first time in this fan-fic, as in actual meet meet.

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling is the proud owner of everything related to Harry Potter. Which means the actual story and the characters... T^T.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE, DREI, SAN,

* * *

Hermione was utterly exhausted. After the sorting had finished, Professor McGonagall had made an announcement about the current year's headgirl and headboy. Flushing with embarrassment under the scrutiny of the entire occupants of the hall, she had stood up. After the speech had ended, her knees were shaking violently and she gratefully sank down onto the bench next to Harry and Ron. Her fellow seventh years murmured congratulations as she sat down.

Professor McGonagall had coughed slightly, attracting all the unwanted attention back to her and spoke, "This year, Hogwarts will be in good hands. But now to other matters, I believe you are all starving, I shall not detain you any longer from the dinner that you so deserve." And with that, she clapped her hands. Food magically appeared on the tables. The enticing aroma of delicious food wafted up above the plates and hungry children set to.

Hermione had grimaced as Ron immediately dove toward the plate of chicken and took giant bites. She looked away from his mouth, where she could see chicken getting mashed up. Seeing Ron eat in such a disgusting manner immediately made her lose what little appetite she had. Yet she had to keep up appearances and her energy, so she reluctantly ladled a bit of corn soup. Raising her spoon to her mouth she closed her eyes appreciatively. It had been a long time since she had tasted Hogwart's food.

After finishing eating, Professor McGonagall had dismissed them all to their beds. The prefects escorted their houses to their respective common rooms. But before Hermione and Draco followed the prefects, Professor McGonagall drew them aside.

"I forgot to mention, since you are headgirl and headboy, you have your private rooms and bath. Follow me," she turned around and briskly trotted up the stairs.

They followed her until they reached a portrait. She halted and said, "Choose your password, so that only you or staff can access it."

Hermione turned to Draco with a questioning look in her hazel eyes.

Draco sneered and said, "Well hurry up and choose, we haven't got all day."

Hermione looked incredulously at him, did he seriously just let her choose? She thought for a bit, chewing her bottom lip. "Phoenix tears."

The portrait glowed for a second then faded back to normal. Professor McGonagall nodded then said, "Your belongings shall be inside. Good night." Turning on her heel, she left.

Glancing apprehensively at Draco, she turned to the portrait and said the password. Hermione gasped as it opened slowly revealing the rooms within. The rooms inside were decorated with Slytherin and Gryffindor colours, and they look quite tasteful together. A thick rug carpeted the ground. A fire burned merrily in a large fireplace, suffusing the room with a warm cheerfulness. There was a comfortable couch and two armchairs around a small coffee table in the middle of the room. There was a large bookshelf, which Hermione immediately flew towards, next to the wall. After carefully scrutinising the books, she turned around to see Draco regarding her with a mixture of arrogance and amusement. Sniffing indignantly she turned around to face the doors that led to their respective living quarters with apprehension.

"Well, let's get on with it. I for one would like to go to bed sometime soon," drawled Draco.

Hermione's face coloured up slightly. Reaching out tentatively, she opened her door and gasped with delight.

Her bed frame was a reddish oak. The sheets and blanket were a deep maroon shot through with gold. A sturdy desk sat in the corner of a room, accompanied with a very comfy chair. There was another bookshelf here and it was empty. The wallpaper was beige with gold hangings near the base and ceiling. Her ceiling was a pure white with intricate designs around the edges. She sighed in admiration.

Turning around she spied luggage containing her belongings next to the bed. But before she could finally unpack, she had to finish inspecting her new chambers.

Another door led to a bathroom and toilet. The bathroom was gigantic and mostly pristine white marble. A huge mirror sat atop the basin next to a big bath tub. A big shower with frosted glass occupied the corner on the right where the towel rack was. Behind a sliding door was a toilet. She smiled happily and pranced back into her bedroom.

A few wand waves later, everything was settled as she had wanted it, and her belongings had all flown to their correct places. The bookshelf was filled to burst with all of the books she had managed to cram on. Moving pictures of her friends and family occupied the desk, which had several quills and ink pots resting on the surface. She groaned tiredly as the day caught up with her and jumped onto the bed, burying her face into the very soft pillow that laid there.

"Having fun, Granger?" came a voice from the doorway. Draco stood there looking smug that he had witnessed her doing such an undignified thing.

Her response was muffled by the pillow, and she twisted her head to glare at him. "I didn't give you permission to come into my rooms!" she accused him angrily.

He shrugged indifferently, "Then why don't you come see my rooms?"

His offer caught her off-guard and she looked confusedly up at him.

"Don't just stare at me, Granger. I thought you were supposedly the brightest which in Hogwarts. You sure don't seem like one," he sneered nastily.

Ignoring him she got up and swept regally out of the room. He followed her, amusement once again evident in his eyes. Walking up to his door, he opened it and bowed, beckoning her in.

"Your majesty,"

She grinned and pretended to wave him off, sniffing haughtily as she did so. She surveyed his room with a critical eye. The basic position of everything was the exact same as her room's, although the colour was typical Slytherin. Green and silver hangings adorned the walls. His walls were a nice grass green and the ceiling was creamy beige. His bed was a Slytherin version of her own.

"Huh, Slytherin colours, typical." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Gryffindor colours, how surprising," he drawled sarcastically.

She grinned at him again then abruptly yawned. "It's getting late; better go to bed soon, we have classes tomorrow."

Draco nodded and gently shooed her out of his rooms. Closing the door behind her, she went to clean up in her bathroom. She experimented with the bath tub and the bath salts that were lined up on a ledge. She spent at least an hour soaking up the water, her eyes closed blissfully.

After finishing washing, she slid into bed in her red pyjamas and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"_Send the prisoners into the cellar. All except… except for the Mudblood." Bellatrix leered at Ron._

"_No!" shouted Ron. "Take me instead! She isn't worth it!"_

"_Silence, scum" hissed Bellatrix as she hit his face. The blow connected solidly and the sound echoed throughout the room. "If she proves to be unworthy sport, your wish _will_ be granted." Smiling viciously she gestured at Greyback. "Take them down."_

_Greyback growled with pleasure and prodded Hermione's friends down the stairs with his wand._

"_As for you, Mudblood filth," she whispered and drew a small silver knife out. Her other hand gripped a short black wand. "Petrificus Totalus."_

_Hermione froze and thumped down onto the ground, helpless._

_Grinning manically she crouched down next to her. "Now, Mudblood, answer me. No, before that, let's give you a taste of pain. Crucio"_

_Hermione writhed on the ground as pain exploded everywhere. She felt like she had been tossed into a fire, burning and burning, getting crisped and fried. Her flesh felt like multiple knives were digging in, twisting and slicing. Her head exploded in pain and bright white lights flashed hypnotically. Her eyes unfocused and soon she could not see, her sight clouded by a red haze of pain. Her insides screamed for reprieve, and her stomach cramped painfully. Suddenly the pain stopped. Blessed absence of pain. Her senses returned._

"_Where did you find the sword?"_

_She had not recovered yet, and could not respond._

"_No? Then I'm afraid I have no choice. Crucio"_

_Pain! Utter agony. Her legs twitched and she screamed, a high keening wail._

_Grinning sadistically, Bellatrix increased the pain._

_Pain! Pain! Agony! It was as if she had broken every single bone in her body, over and over. It was like she was getting flayed alive, her skin peeling off slowly. The pressure built behind her eyes until finally, she blacked out. _

_She woke to a screaming protest by her muscles as they cramped painfully._

"_I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? _Where?_"_

_Hermione gasped for breath and choked out, "We found it – we found it – PLEASE!" She screamed again as Bellatrix raised wand._

_The pain again, worse than the last two. Unbearable pain._

"_You are a lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the WHOLE truth!" Bellatrix screamed, insanity glittering in her eyes._

_Hermione collapsed onto the ground, twitching as tremors ran through her body. The wand was raised._

_She screamed, high and long. Sustained for an impossibly long time._

"_What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"_

_

* * *

_

She shot up in her bed, gasping quietly. Sweat plastered her bushy curls to her face as tremors racked her body.

"Granger, what's wrong?" Draco's concerned face peeked from the door. Upon seeing the dishevelled state Hermione was in, he immediately rushed over and picked her up. Ignoring her pleas to let her down, he ran into the living room and out into the hallway. Waiting a second to get his bearings, he ran in the direction to the Hospital Wing. Hallways flashed past, and portraits were woken up from the sound of Draco's pattering feet. He had not gone halfway before he was accosted by a dark figure.

"My, my, what have we here?" A cold voice rumbled silkily from the dark figure.

Draco bravely pointed his wand at him, "Who are you?"

Professor Snape's pale face suddenly appeared as he stepped out of the shadows into the flickering candle light. Draco sighed in relief as he identified the possible enemy.

"What are you doing out after curfew? Oh wait, you're _headboy _now. I suppose that you're exempt from curfew then." He sneered unpleasantly.

"Sir, please let me through, Granger needs Madame Pomfrey. Now." Draco pleaded.

Professor Snape looked disdainfully down at her, noticing her for the first time. His eyes unreadable, he turned to Draco, "What happened?"

Draco was impatient and fought to shift from foot to foot. "I was sleeping peacefully until she woke me up with a scream. I immediately ran to her room and saw her sitting up. She was twitching and sweating, her face was as white as a sheet. I don't know what's wrong with her."

Professor Snape listened in thoughtful silence then held out his arms. "Let me carry her. Your pitifully weak arms will probably give way if you hold her any longer."

Draco shifted her form into Professor Snape's arms with a small sigh of relief.

Professor Snape held her as if she weighed nothing, "Draco, go back to your rooms."

Draco started and glared at him, "I'm afraid I can't do that. She _is _headgirl after all. I will not be known for shirking my responsibilities."

Professor Snape gazed at him for long seconds then nodded his acquiescence. He turned around and continued down the hallways, his robes billowing behind him. Draco hurriedly ran up to catch up with his Professor's long strides.

* * *

Argh. No beta... T^T. I hope I can publish at LEAST once a week, that's what I said. Hopefully the story will pick up from here. BTW, please excuse me for my writing skills. I have only recently become a high school student... =_=... Yes. I'm 13. Wow. So young. Lol. Ok, bye.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Hi guys! I'm just one of you... Like, I love Harry Potter and I love J.K. Rowling for creating Snape and Hermione and everyone... ... All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

**A/N:** Yoyo. Sorry my faithful readers for the long wait. I was busy... with homework... ... *Pathetic excuse* Ah well, here it is. Another part of the plot.

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CHAPTER FOUR, VIER, SI, YON,

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Severus couldn't sleep. It was simple as that. He had a severe case of insomnia. Haunted by his dreams he could not bear to sleep. Now he could prowl the corridors with an added benefit, catching students out after curfew and deducting points; maybe even award a detention or two.

He was doing his usual round of Hogwarts, keeping in the shadows like a great black bat. He smiled bitterly, that was a fitting analogy. Prowling silently along the corridors, his keen ears picked up a sound. Smiling in anticipation he honed in onto his prey.

He spied a head full of sleek white-blond hair. That could only mean one person, Draco.

"My, my, what have we here?" He made sure his voice was suitably silky and cold.

Jumping like a startled rabbit, Draco turned around and pointed his wand at him. "Who are you?"

Rather than risk getting hexed, he stepped forward to reveal himself. Draco visibly relaxed and dropped his wand arm.

"What are you doing out after curfew? Oh wait, you're _headboy _now. I suppose that you're exempt from curfew then." Severus curled his mouth in an antagonizing sneer.

"Sir, please let me through, Granger needs Madam Pomfrey. Now!" Draco pleaded.

Granger? Ah, lying in Draco's arms. Stepping closer he observed her.

Her sweaty curls stuck to her pasty white face. Deep rings of purple surrounded her eyes, and she was visibly shaking. She was shivering, perhaps from the cold or from whatever that had just happened to her. He narrowed his eyes curiously. She wasn't hurt physically, that was a relief.

He turned to face Draco. "What happened?"

Draco's explanation was clear and to the point, although he only barely managed to mask his concern for the little chit. Severus' keen eyes also saw that Draco's arms were very slightly trembling. Sighing mentally, he held out his arms.

"Let me carry her. Your pitifully weak arms seem like they will probably give way if you hold her any longer." He sniffed disdainfully as Draco transferred her body to his waiting arms.

He frowned, she was light, too light. He surveyed her more closely; she was much too thin for her age. The deep purple circles around her eyes clearly showed that she was an insomniac, just like him he thought wryly. But the thinness terrified him even more than her physical appearance. Shaking his head mentally, he turned around and strode off toward the hospital wing.

She was drifting in the darkness, a myriad of sensations and a kaleidoscope of gray scale colours. She briefly woke up a few times, but never long enough to fully become conscious. At least her dreams were not haunted, quite the contrary; blissful oblivion.

* * *

She opened her eyes to golden beams of sunlight streaking her bed. Wait, she wasn't sleeping in her bed, hell, she wasn't even in her bedroom. What happened? Suddenly memories came trickling back. A horrible nightmare of the time she got tortured. Waking up to Draco inquiring with concern. Draco picking her up… then a blank. What happened after? She frowned confusedly. She disliked the feeling of ignorance.

Turning her head to the right, she spied the telltale curtains of the hospital wing. A faint sound alerted her to the presence of another person within her 'room'. Whipping her head to the left, she immediately regretted moving so fast as waves of dizziness and nausea turned her vision hazy. But overriding the sickness was utter shock. This was impossible. Had the whole world gone mad? It couldn't be him, but it was.

Professor Snape sat on an uncomfortable chair next to her bed. Yet despite the chair's uncomfortable shape, he had managed to fall asleep. Not daring to breath, she observed him. He sat in the chair with his head bowed and lank greasy locks dangling in his face, concealing his expression. His posture was relaxed. Only now did she discover how much tension he usually held himself with, his nerves must be stretched something awful. His breathing was deep and what she could see of his face was peaceful. In sleep, his face lost its cruel sarcasm, and the scowl that always graced his face was gone. The lines around his mouth had smoothed, but weren't entirely gone. In sleep he seemed to lose his 'greasy git' persona and seemed almost like a normal person. Continuing to study him, she realized that his skin was pasty white tinged with grey. His shoulders were slumped, and his entire demeanour screamed exhaustion.

"Have you finished analysing me, Miss Granger?" A voice pierced the spell that had managed to cast itself over her.

She jumped and managed to stop a yelp from escaping. Sitting up, she glared at him and opened her mouth to retort. But her treacherous tongue disobeyed and instead said, "How much sleep do you get? You look like you're dead, honestly." Her eyes widened and she clapped her hands on her mouth, determined not to let another outburst spill from her mouth. She waited for his scolding and studied the sheets that covered her stomach and below, shivering slightly.

"I don't get any sleep."

The reply startled her and made her bite her tongue. She involuntarily looked up to meet his unwavering gaze. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked up at him evenly, almost indifferently and asked, "What's the time?" She tensed in dread for the answer.

"It's breakfast, you've woken up at the perfect moment," came the reply.

Breathing a sigh of relief she tried to get out of bed, tentatively putting her feet down on the ground. The room spun around crazily. She immediately stopped and closed her eyes, she bent down and put her head between her knees. Eventually the spinning sensation stopped and she dared to open her eyes again. She stood up. The world tilted on its axis again and bile rose up in her throat. Her legs shook and her knees wobbled. She pitched forward and was caught by a pair of strong arms. Glancing up in shock, she met unreadable coal black eyes. She could feel her face rapidly turning red. She glared at him challengingly, daring him to comment. He cocked an eyebrow at her as he helped her stand up.

"Will I be okay in time to attend class?" A desperate note tinged her voice.

"If the nausea and dizziness disappears by the time breakfast has finished, yes." He replied in a bored tone.

She slowly tottered to the table, where a tumbler of chilled water sat. She held it in both hands to prevent water from slopping onto her chin. She gulped it down greedily and sighed in appreciation as she swallowed her last mouthful. She turned around to see Professor Snape surveying her with disdain. She looked down as her cheeks flushed again. Mortification flooded her as she released how she must have looked, gulping down the water greedily. No doubt he thought she was a savage.

She tossed her hair and stalked weakly off in the direction of the great hall.

"Miss Granger, where do you think you're going?" A cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

"I'm hungry, so I'm going to go eat breakfast." She retorted waspishly.

"In the clothes you are wearing?" His eyes swept her slight figure appraisingly.

She glanced down and immediately tried to cover herself.

He sneered at her and drawled, "Well, I'll leave you to it. You may eat breakfast in the hospital wing if you so wish." He turned on his heel and stalked off, his robes billowing around him.

Madam Pomfrey suddenly popped up out of nowhere, exclaiming, "Hermione, dear girl, do go sit down."

Her face still as red as a tomato, she weakly made her way back to her bed and sat down. A house elf appeared with a tray of breakfast and she set to. Eating hungrily, her thoughts turned to Professor Snape.

* * *

Her first class for the day was transfiguration. At the end of the class, Professor McGonagall pulled her aside, concern written on her face.

"Hermione! What happened last night?" She exclaimed.

Hermione looked down, her face burning. "I-I had a nightmare. It was nothing, really."

Professor McGonagall's face betrayed her disbelief. But thankfully she chose not to press Hermione for details. Smiling suddenly she said, "Hermione, how would you feel to have private lessons with me? You would be able to progress at a much faster rate, and I hope to turn you into an animagi by the end of the year."

Hermione gasped with astonishment, "Really? I would be honoured!" Her face glowing, she hugged Professor McGonagall tightly.

Smiling with affection, McGonagall shooed Hermione out of the classroom. "You wouldn't want to be late for the next class, would you?"

At the end of the day, dizziness and nausea returned suddenly and in full force. She had barely made it to the hospital wing in time. Madam Pomfrey saw her green face and immediately conjured a bin for her. After hurling up her lunch Madam Pomfrey had forced her to lie in one of the hospital beds and to consume a bitter green potion. After a few minutes, Hermione was okay again. Shakily, she stood up. Brushing down her robes she smiled and thanked Madam Pomfrey profusely. Brushing away her thanks, Madam Pomfrey had given her a vial of dreamless sleep potion and strict instructions on the intake amount.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione thanked her gratefully. "I don't know what I could have done without you"

Madam Pomfrey silently observed her, a thoughtful glint in her eyes. Suddenly, she burst out, "Would you like to train to be a mediwitch?

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A part of Hermione noted that she had been given the honour of being singled out for her intelligence and skills by no less than the headmistress and the mediwitch.

She nodded furiously and beamed.

Madam Pomfrey returned the gesture and discharged her from the Hospital Wing, warning her not to upset or exhaust herself.

She quickly ran to the Great Hall just in time for dinner. She slid in beside Harry and Ron, a grin tucking at her lips.

"Where were you? Blimey, you had us worried, we couldn't find you," exclaimed Ron in relief.

She grinned and told them about the events that had happened to her that day.

The Gryffindor table roared out its congratulations. Most of the noise was contributed by Harry, Ron and Ginny. Her heart had constricted with emotion. She loved Harry, Ron and Ginny so much, her throat had closed with emotion and unshed tears sparkled in her eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

GAH, I CAN'T GET RID OF THAT LINE ^

**A/N: *cower* PWEEZ, DON'T KILL MEH! I KNOW I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN LIKE, A MONTH. Okay, fine, like, 2 or 3... I'm SO sorry, I just kinda... Lost motivation? I will try to update again more... I just had, you know, a momentary lack of faith in my abilities, which is so true. I don't have a beta reader, and cbfed getting one anytime soon.. T^T**

**Sorry, this time it's gonna be REALLY short.  
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**Disclaimer: Need I say more? FINE, FINE, THESE BEAUTIFUL CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS DO NOT BELONG TO ME! *Grumble mutter***

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CHAPTER 5

Snape frowned in annoyance as the Gryffindor table howled as loud as they possibly could. He glared at the table and observed that all the activity was revolving around a thoroughly happy and blushing Miss Granger. Curling his upper lip in a sneer, he turned back to prodding his food with his fork, what little appetite he had before dispelled by the repulsive sight of happy Gryffindors. The insufferable know-it-all would become even more unbearable with her swelled head in the light of her recent achievements.

As the cheers died away, he stood up abruptly, pushing away from the table. In a swirl of his black voluminous robes, he exited via the staff door. He walked slowly, once outside in the corridors. His sixth sense, which was one of the attributes necessary for one who had the same job as he, warned him of a human presence.

xxxx

When her blushing face finally cooled down, she noticed her hand shaking slightly. Her eyes widened slightly in alarm. She couldn't have one of her relapses right here and now. She laughed bitterly in her mind; of course life would never go her way. It rarely ever did, and why should it?

Her face pale, she stood up slowly, excusing herself. A hand stopped her.

"'Mione, you really okay?" Ron asked, frowning in concern.

"I'm fine, really, I just want to have some time by myself," she smiled reassuringly at him, trying to fight down the tremors that had now spread to her arm.

Ron nodded in understanding, to her relief and she quickly hurried out of the Hall.

The tremors had spread to her entire body and pain began to cast a red haze over her sight. Shaking violently she walked over to a niche where she couldn't easily be seen and slid down, her back against the wall. She barely managed to cast a notice me not and a silencing charm when the pain that had momentarily been held at bay finally overwhelmed her.

Her stomach and lower back muscles cramped painfully. Her insides felt like claws were tearing her apart. Her head felt like it was splitting open, and her skin felt like it had when Bellatrix had used her little silver knife and sliced her skin repeatedly. She felt as if she had been tossed into embers that at any second could burst into a roaring pillar of flame. But she was grateful for the fact that the real cruciatus was worse. Much more worse.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a dark figure approaching her. She briefly felt ashamed of that person finding her writhing and twitching on the floor. Fear clutched at her chest, she was vulnerable and whoever found her now could easily do what they please with her. Before she could try to identify the figure, the pain reached a climax. She was grateful, as the worst bit was over. Blessed darkness claimed her as she fainted.

xxxx

Creeping silently so that he could startle whoever his senses had warned him of, he rounded the corner. Nothing was there. Curious, his senses were almost always correct. Years worth of habit made him blend easily into the shadows, while his eyes swept the corridor. There it was, a faint shimmer, his eyes slid off. Using only his peripheral vision, he saw the shimmer again. Obviously a notice me not charm.

He took out his ebony wand and cast the nonverbal counter curse. He froze in shock.

Hermione Granger was writhing on the ground, her legs and arms twitching. Her face was contorted in agony. He started suddenly when her pain filled gaze caught his. Fear glimmered in the depths of her eyes. He approached her warily, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, her head slumped forward and he knew without a doubt that she had passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

**A:N/ **Herrowh! It's meh, BTS. Yeah. Short chapter. I know. Life's good. I make no promises to keep them longer... T^T. BECAUSE, EVERYTIME I SIT IN FRONT OF MY LAPTOP AND OPEN A WORD DOCUMENT, MY MUSE RUNS AWAY SCREAMING. MY MIND GOES BLANK! No, really! T^T. Ah well, without further ado:

**DISCLAIMER: **Ya di da. J.K. Rowling owns everything except the plot in this story.

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Chapter 6, six, liu, sechs, roku, sei

Xxxx

Hermione Granger's writhing form lay at his feet. She was screaming but no sound came from her. Obviously a silencing charm then. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, relief filling her gaze. Then she slumped down, her limbs still jerking.

It seemed as if fate were mocking him, throwing that annoying little chit in his path, time and time again. Sighing in resignation, he bent down and picked her up, striding off in the direction of the hospital wing.

What was the ailment affecting Granger? He mentally ran through different illnesses and couldn't come up with any that seemed likely. Although, there were a lot of similarities between it and the cruciatus curse. He frowned, the lines around his mouth growing even deeper.

"Severus?" Poppy's voice broke into his thoughts.

He'd arrived at the hospital wing without even noticing it. Blinking, he shook his head slightly.

"What's wrong?" Poppy stood in front of him, concern etched in her features.

"I found Miss Granger on the floor outside the Great Hall. She was writhing and her limbs were twitching uncontrollably. Her illness is not one I have seen nor read about, although it bears certain resemblance to the cruciatus." Severus explained impassively, his face unreadable.

"Well, hurry up and put her in a bed!"

He deposited Granger gently on a bed and was shooed out by Poppy who then drew the curtains around the bed closed.

xxxx

Poppy pointed her wand at Hermione's still form, "_enervate"._

Hermione gasped and her eyes flew open. She immediately groaned and closed her eyes again as nausea threatened to make her dinner come up in a most unsavoury way.

"Hermione? How do you feel?" Poppy's concerned tone broke through the haze of nausea surrounding her mind.

"I feel like I'm about to throw up." Hermione answered truthfully and turned green.

Poppy hurriedly conjured up a bin, and just in time, as the contents of Hermione's stomach was emptied out into the bin. Poppy rubbed comforting circles on Hermione's back as she groaned into the bin. When her stomach was finally empty, Poppy conjured up a cup of water and helped Hermione rinse her mouth out.

A killer headache pulsed in Hermione's head and she groaned again, cradling her tender skull in her hands. Her spine and joints all ached painfully. Every breath she took made fresh waves of pain spread throughout her body.

"How do you feel now?" Poppy repeated.

"I have a headache that's threatening to burst my skull, and my spine and all my joints ache like I have a severe case of arthritis," said Hermione.

A few seconds later a vial of light green liquid was thrust under her nose.

"This is to help relieve the pain."

She gratefully poured the contents of the vial down her throat and closed her eyes, waiting for the effects to kick in.

Poppy turned around and opened the curtains to see Severus Snape pacing back and forth. His head whipped around as she opened the curtains and he strode up to her.

"What's the diagnosis?"

"I honestly can't tell. I've never seen a case like this in all my years as a mediwitch. Maybe you can find out what's wrong with her?"

He swooped in and smiled nastily when he saw Granger flinch. Her face was a pasty white and she trembled slightly.

"Tell me, Granger, is this the first time you've had this kind of seizure?" He asked briskly.

She sat up straighter and gathered her Gryffindor courage. "No. I've had them ever since Bellatrix tortured me."

Ah. Cruciatus relapses. Bellatrix was especially skilled in the cruciatus curse, no wonder the girl continued to suffer.

"Tell me about them." He walked over and sat in a chair, having no wish to continue standing.

"They started out okay. The pain was bearable and they only lasted for a few seconds. These relapses were few and far between, usually brought upon by changes in the weather or severe exhaustion. And as time progressed they came more often and for longer. Now they come for no apparent reason and at any time. They last for a few minutes, but they're nowhere near as bad as the actual cruciatus." She coughed and blinked in surprise as a cup of water was thrust into her hands. She looked up to Professor Snape's unreadable eyes and blinked gratefully at him. Taking a sip she continued.

"I can usually tell when I get one, as there are telltale signs earlier in the day. Nausea, brief dizzy spells, cramping muscles and aching joints are the most common." A few tears slid down her cheeks. "Will I be this way forever? Will they affect my life? Is there a cure?" She whispered brokenly, staring up at him in a silent plea. "I'll never be free of her, even when she's dead."

"I don't know." He answered truthfully. "However, with your permission I would like to run some tests on you and try and create a cure for your predicament. Perhaps we can work together on the cure."

Her eyes widened as the full import of his words sunk into her fuzzy mind. She grinned at him and nodded furiously.

He stood up abruptly, "I will talk to you later, once you have fully recovered. Drink this, it will help you sleep."

He handed her a vial of dreamless sleep potion and waited until she had swallowed it before saying a curt, "Goodbye" and exiting.

She smiled and fell asleep, the excited thoughts of possible solutions whirring around in her bright mind.

Xxxx


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Herrow. I won't be posting next week, I'M GOING ON A HOLIDAY~! For like, 4 nights... And I have to sleep on the floor. Yeah, what a GREAT holiday.

**Disclaimer: **I hereby declare that I have no ownership over anything within this fanfic 'cept for the plot.

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CHAPTER 7

Hermione Granger woke up to the all too familiar sight of the cracked ceiling of the Hospital Wing. Blinking her eyes sleepily she recalled the previous day's events.

She briefly recalled her relapse during dinner and the horrible pain which followed. She dimly remembered a dark figure which had accosted her in that vulnerable state before passing out. Before she had passed out, she remembered seeing Professor Snape's face. The next thing she knew, she was in the hospital wing with Madame Pomfrey's concerned face hovering above hers. After a brief questioning, Madame Pomfrey had let Professor Snape in. What followed had not exactly been pleasant. The mention of Bellatrix had led to her painful past being dug up out of all the layers of protection she had built up against it and consequently, all her previous fears to flood out. Yet the sight of Professor Snape's face had inexplicably calmed her.

She smiled, what followed had been a great shock and pleasure.

"_However, with your permission I would like to run some tests on you and try and create a cure for your predicament. Perhaps we can work together on the cure." _

Suddenly she frowned. This was Professor Snape she was thinking about. He had always been the Greasy Git; the great Dungeon Bat. But instead of feeling extremely apprehensive and downright repulsed, she was feeling the exact opposite. The warm glow of pride, the excitement of working with another brilliant mind that she could have an intelligent conversation with, without the person staring at her blankly whenever she used a word more than 3 syllables long. But this _was _Professor Snape she was talking about… She probably wouldn't even last a minute without him biting her head off.

She froze. But he _had_ changed. Concern had softened his face slightly yesterday. If she didn't know better, she had heard him _pacing _outside. Then realization dawned upon her. The war had not only changed her. Professor Snape no longer needed to act. To put on the façade so that he could continue to keep his life. He was free from Voldemort and could now act normally, but all those years pretending to be the cold, snarky bastard had eventually made his façade an integral part of him. It was now a part of him and doubled as a defence mechanism to keep people away and to prevent himself from emotional harm. Perhaps it had come easily to him, and fear kept him on edge. Fear to make a mistake that could end fatally in his demise. Therefore he had to keep the façade on, and eventually it became a part of him.

She could sympathise with him easily enough. Perhaps he did have a heart after all.

She was startled from her musings by the light that suddenly flooded in. Someone had pulled the curtains open. She blinked watering eyes furiously as she waited for them to adjust to the sudden contrast of light. The blurry figure gradually sharpened into the form of Madame Pomfrey.

"Good morning, Hermione. How do you feel?"

This was becoming too familiar, along with the waking up in the Hospital Wing.

"Good morning. I feel fine; better than I usually do after these episodes." She stretched, trying to find any part of her that felt abnormal. She sighed in relief when no sudden sharp pains appeared.

Madame Pomfrey smiled waved her wand above Hermione's prone form a few times. When nothing but gold light shone above her, Madame Pomfrey declared herself satisfied and said that Hermione could leave the Hospital Wing in time for breakfast. She gave her a few potions to deal with any aftershocks of the cruciatus relapse and left.

Hermione stood and sighed in relief as she felt no particular weakness. Her legs were strong and steady beneath her, assuring her that she would not suddenly pitch forward in the near future.

A house elf appeared with her clothes and she hurriedly dressed. A growl from her stomach reminded her that she had missed most of the previous night's dinner. She hurriedly made her way down to the Great Hall.

XXXX

Severus Snape enjoyed solving puzzles, and Miss Granger's case was one of the most intriguing he'd seen in a long time. A cruciatus relapse? Lingering after-effects from being held under torture for several hours beneath the skilled hand of one crazy, sadistic Bellatrix Le Strange.

A condition that instead of getting better gradually worsens as time goes by. A condition that can be offset by weather and stress.

He was going to enjoy working with Miss Granger to figure out the puzzle.

Wait. He was going to enjoy working with Miss Granger to figure out the puzzle!

He shook his head trying to get rid of the thought. Where had it come from? Why would he enjoy working with an insufferable know-it-all? And a Gryffindor no less. He'd probably bite her head off within the first minute out of sheer frustration.

He had almost been concerned about her welfare the night before. Severus Snape, concerned. Those two words had never been put together in a single sentence before.

He growled angrily. He was softening. Sweeping into the Great Hall for breakfast, he realized that he was the first. The Great Hall was empty from the usual thunderous chattering of the hundreds of children. Ah, much better. He would be able to eat his breakfast in peace.

"Winky," a house elf suddenly appeared with a sharp crack! "The usual, thank you"

A steaming cup of black tea appeared beside a plate of toast with scrambled eggs and crispy bacon on the side.

Just before he was going to begin eating his breakfast, a slight figure swept in, her robes swirling behind her. But the wild mane of hair gave her away. It was none other than Hermione Granger.

He would rectify the mistake of sounding or looking concerned the day before when she was in the Hospital Wing. He glared at her icily when she looked up at him. She blinked, a look of hurt and surprise crossing her innocent face. Confusion made her furrow her brows as she stopped to stare at him. He turned around to greet the Headmistress as she made her way up to the table. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Miss Granger – no, Granger – start in surprise. She shook her head and made her way to the Gryffindor table to eat her breakfast, alone.

"Good morning, Severus." Minerva sat herself in the seat next to him, glancing curiously at Granger who was poking at her breakfast unenthusiastically. Apparently Minerva had seen their cryptic staring.

"Quite the contrary, Minerva." He stared at his half eaten plate.

Minerva narrowed her eyes at him, but decided not to question.

His appetite dispelled by Granger's appearance, he left the Great Hall to prepare for his lessons, all the while feeling a pair of eyes burning into him.

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*Gasp* Oh noes.

Special thanks to my constant reviewers, **Slinkiee, Burnedx2 and Charlie Fowl. **

And thanks to all my other reviewers and readers. Your reviews keep me going, ^^. *Hands out snape shaped cookies***  
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	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thank you yet again for your reviews! You really make my day. ARGH. It's been so hard to keep Snape in character, and you know he's NEVER concerned. So basically, he's trying to make up for it. Hmmm. Tempting my muse with chocolate actually works! But I think I ate too much and couple that with the 40 degree celsius temperature yesterday, I had a blood nose. LOL. NOT because I was reading Lemons. DEFINITELY NOT. =_=. Yes, I'm 13 and I know what lemons are. Trust me, whatever you knew about 13 year olds has been completely swept away. We 13 year olds... know a lot... ARGH. I think everything's progressing WAYYYY too fast. It should have perhaps taken me loads of chapters to get up to this part, but oh well.

**Disclaimer: **Definition: A statement made to save one's own ass. YES. That's what it is. I hereby announce that none of these characters or settings belong to me. J.K. Rowling is the proud owner of them...

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**Chapter 8**

Hermione never realized that she had woken up so early, otherwise she might have taken the time to go to the library to freshen up and to finish her uncompleted homework. Her homework! She totally forgot about it!

She hurriedly finished eating her breakfast as some of the earlier risers filed in to the Great Hall to eat. She strolled slowly along, in no hurry, to her head girl quarters. She had put a lot of pressure on herself. Her shoulders carried a burden that no other girl attending Hogwarts had ever even imagined. Training to be an animagus, training to be a mediwitch, working with Professor Snape on the Cruciatus Relapse cure and being Headgirl. Couple that with the past year's war and her part in it, no wonder she was so stressed and thus provoked the relapse.

The portrait that guarded the entry to her rooms loomed up in front of her. She had walked all the way to her rooms without even noticing it. So absorbed was she in her musings. Shaking her head, she muttered, "Phoenix tears" and walked in only to find herself colliding with Draco.

She lost her balance as began to fall backwards. She flailed her arms, trying to regain stability and was caught by a pair of strong arms.

"Where were you last night? I was so worried, I tried searching for you. I couldn't find you anywhere!" Draco's anguished face stared at her.

"Uhhh," she scuffed her foot on the ground.

"Tell me the truth, Granger, or I'll force it from you." He threatened. But whether he was serious or not, she couldn't tell.

Sighing in annoyance she beckoned him to the couch and sat down. "Do you remember when Bellatrix was torturing me last year? You were there."

His jaw tightened at the memory.

"Well, she tortured me for too long and that had side-effects. The side-effects are what I call Cruciatus Relapses. It started not too long after the war had finished. It used to last for a few seconds, provoked only by severe exhaustion, stress or lack of sleep. It came infrequently and far apart. It's started to gradually worsen. These days, almost anything can set them off. They last for several minutes at a time and are almost as bad as the original curse."

Draco nodded in understanding, "So you had suffered under the curse last night during dinner, and not wishing to make a giant spectacle in the hall, you left and…"

Hermione nodded, "And I only barely made it into a crevice. I shielded myself so I wouldn't be assaulted. But Professor Snape found me and brought me to the hospital wing, again."

"Professor Snape, again?" Draco exclaimed. "It's funny how it's always him who rescues you. Your knight in shining armour if you will." He snickered.

"Oh, shush you." She laughed and smacked him lightly on the arm. "I'm fine, okay?" Her face turned serious, "Please, make sure none of what I told you leaves this room."

He arched an eyebrow but inclined his head in acquiescence.

She smiled reassuringly at him. "Go eat breakfast; you'll see me again during potions today."

Draco nodded and smiled at her, "Catch you later then." And with that, he turned around and left through the portrait door.

She sighed and sat back, rubbing her eyes.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Hermione ran as fast as she could toward the transfiguration classroom, her hair streaming behind. She was almost late, and Professor McGonagall frowned upon tardiness. At last she arrived at the transfiguration double with one minute to spare, and entered. Professor McGonagall smiled at her and began the lesson as Hermione had been the last in.

The rest of the lesson passed quickly. It had been incredibly interesting and challenging, but for Hermione, it was merely a simple exercise. They had been required to transfigure different minerals to another mineral entirely, changing the molecular structure and the elements. In theory it was incredibly easy, but in practice, the minerals had the patience of a stone, pardon the pun.

At the end of the lesson while all the students were filing out, Professor McGonagall pulled her aside. "Miss Granger! How are you? Poppy told me about what happened yesterday."

Hermione smiled and quickly reassured her that she was fine.

Professor McGonagall sighed in relief but quickly turned business-like. "I called you to stay behind for a moment in regards to the animagus training."

Hermione excitedly listened, her eyes wide and shining.

"Well, training to be an animagus is very hard and time-consuming. You will need to know all the theory behind it, which I am sure you already knew in your third year." Here she paused and looked meaningfully at Hermione.

Of course, the time-turners. How did Professor McGonagall know that she had done some research on being an animagi?

"You already know all the dangers. But I shall run them through with you once again. You must have the utmost concentration. When you are merely a beginner animagi, lack of concentration can be fatal. You may be stuck in-between your animagus form and your human form for a long time and be unable to do anything about it. So when you first begin, you must always have someone who can transform, next to you."

"Transforming must only be used for good. I shall leave it up to you to make the right decisions. The theory you covered is probably relevant only to the dangers and consequences of being an animagi. I know this because I have read every single book about transfiguration in the library as I am sure you did too. So your extra homework for tonight is to read this book and commit it to memory. It is essential that you remember everything."

Here she handed Hermione an ancient book. Its cover was an old faded red with gold writing: _Ye Booke To Animagi Transformation._ It was obviously very old, as the writing implied. Its spine was slightly peeling away and when she opened the pages, they were yellow with age. It was an ancient and valuable book, she realized. Gratitude flooded through her and with a squeal, she jumped up and hugged Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, thank you, Professor!" She smiled and hugged the book.

"You may call me Minerva." Professor McGonagall – no, Minerva – smiled warmly.

"Then you must call me Hermione, Minerva." She returned the expression with considerably more teeth.

Minerva's eyes twinkled slightly in a way that was hauntingly familiar to Dumbledore. And with that, she walked down with Hermione to the Great Hall where lunch was served, ready to be wolfed down by ravenous children.

They arrived at the Great Hall and Minerva left Hermione to sit at the Head Table while Hermione went to sit with her friends at the Gryffindor area, quickly filling them in when they asked about why Minerva detained her.

"Blimey, Hermione, they don't call you the brightest witch of the year for nothing, you know?" Ron asked, bits of bacon flying out of his mouth.

Ginny and Hermione both shot him looks of disgust and edged away from him at the exact same time. Had Hermione not been in fear of getting half-eaten bacon all over herself, she would have found it comical.

"Well, I guess I was significantly helped along because I did my homework and didn't rely on someone else to think for me." She chided him gently.

Ron turned pink in embarrassment and mumbled something intelligible.

Harry sighed wistfully, "The Marauders learnt how to become Animagi in their fifth year."

"But it took them 3 years to learn," Hermione pointed out.

"Still, I wish I could have learnt as well." Harry smiled sadly at her.

"That's it! I could ask Minerva to include you on our lessons!" Hermione gushed, her eyes shining. "And once I've learnt I can help you become an animagi! Ron, Ginny, would you like to become Animagi too?"

"Nah, too hard. I'll stick with quidditch, thank you very much." Ron flapped his hand at them then continued eating.

"No thanks, I'd rather stay human." Ginny grinned at her.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at their disinterest and shook her head ruefully.

After finishing their lunch, Harry and Hermione made their way with dreaded anticipation to the dungeons for their potions double. They slowly filed into the room, immediately taking the seats at the back. He wasn't in there yet, that was a relief. They spoke in hushed tones without even knowing why. Perhaps it was the palpable feeling of fear and dread. Perhaps it was the gloominess and coldness of the dungeons. Or perhaps it was merely the knowledge that their potions professor was going to come and ruin any good mood they had earlier in the day.

They immediately fell silent when the door opened with a satisfying bang and Professor Snape walked in, his robes fluttering furiously behind him. Walking up the aisle, he stopped at the black board and spun around dramatically. Tapping his wand on the board he said in a menacing tone, "Since this is a NEWTs class, I expect only the highest quality potions to find themselves on my desk. You are no longer in an OWLs class, playtime is over. Many of your classmates have dropped out because of inadequacy. This class is serious. If you have any second thoughts about taking the NEWTs potions class, feel free to leave now." He paused and swept the class with his onyx eyes. He then smirked, "I thought not. You have one hour to complete the tasks on the board. Do not disappoint me."

He sat down at his desk and surveyed everyone to see that they were doing everything they were supposed to. His eyes briefly caught Hermione's eyes and she shivered slightly when she saw how cold and lifeless they were. Again, confusion clouded her mind. He had seemed so different the day before when she had woken up in the hospital wing. His eyes had been… almost concerned.

"Miss Granger, do stop gawping at me and do your work." He snapped, his voice icy cold.

She blushed in indignation and turned around to find some bezoars, shivering slightly.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Sorry I haven't updated in so long! RL events are such a pain in the a- you know. Urgh. I feel like becoming a megalomaniac. Well. I've been rewriting the whole plot to make the story smoother. So yeah. It's not 100% clear yet, so I hope that the story will just pick me up and rush along until I come to a fitting end. Oh well. To remedy the OOC for Snape in chapter 7, I'm making him snarkier than usual. Snarky, *drool* =3=.

**Disclaimer:** All the characters and most of the settings in here is copyright to J.K. Rowling and respective owners. The plot however, is mine.

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

"Argh! That man is such a jerk!" Hermione fumed as she stomped away from the dungeons, bushy hair framing her face and giving it a wild look.

Harry patted her back in sympathy. Professor Snape had picked on her during class, even more than Harry and Neville. Swooping among the desks he had stopped at her cauldron near the back of the class and criticized it most cruelly, throwing in a few insults about her. Each had been scathing and harsh and had almost reduced her to tears. But she was proud and would not show him that he had intimidated her.

Jerking up her chin and fixing him with the coldest glare she had ever bestowed, she managed to squeeze past clenched teeth, "If that is all, _sir,_ I have a potion that needs brewing and you are well aware of the fact that if I don't add the syrup of Hellebore in, the potion has a fifty percent chance of exploding."

He had stood there with his arm crossed and looked at her like he would look at something he found stuck to the bottom of his dragonhide boots. Leaning down towards her, he hissed "Twenty points from Gryffindor for cheek and impertinence and a further ten points for being a bad role model. You should feel ashamed of yourself, a Headgirl reduced to talking back to the teachers. I seriously wonder at how you were awarded the _prestigious_ rank." He glared at her once more, infusing it with the essence of loathing and disgust, and glided back toward his desk.

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, pushing her anger and thoughts into a little box in the back of her mind. When she opened her eyes she was calm and serene again, as emotionless as a rock. Turning back to her cauldron she added the syrup of Hellebore and stirred ten times clockwise.

Xxx

Gliding like a vampire up to his desk, he sat down and began marking essays, slashing the quill angrily and leaving blood red criticisms. The cheek and impudence of that little chit! How dare she? He peered discreetly at her from behind curtains of raven black hair. She was staring at him with anger and… was that hurt? But whatever emotions he saw roiling in the depths of her chocolate brown eyes suddenly disappeared, screened by her eyelids. She took a few deep breaths, the tension draining from her tense frame.

She opened her eyes and he almost shivered at the lack of emotion in them. She was good, very good. Despite the fact that she couldn't perform Occlumency, she seemed to have some type of innate talent. He resisted the urge to test just how good she was at Occlumency without tutoring.

Throughout the lesson he had been watching her out of the corner of his eyes. Not once did she look up at him. She gave no sign that the fury that had consumed her but a short while ago had ever existed. When the double was nearing its end, he had called out with a sneer on his face, "Fill a vial with the concoction you brewed and label it, then bring it up to my desk."

The sound of a light clinking was heard throughout the room as they ladled their potion into their vials. Lining up, they each put the product of the day's lesson onto his table while he glared at them. Granger had placed herself in the middle of the line, rather than first as she usually did. He scrutinized her carefully as her turn came. Rather than being a Gryffindor and wearing her heart on her sleeve, she had schooled her features into a passive mask of indifference which was more characteristic of a Slytherin. It was disturbing to see a Slytherin expression on a Gryffindor's face. She didn't look at him, which irked him for some unknown reason.

"Miss Granger." He bit out, his words clipped.

"Yes, professor?" Her voice was a flat monotone.

Pity, he couldn't take points off her for her tone.

He leaned forward, catching her brown eyes with his onyx black ones. Making sure everyone could hear her so that she would be humiliated to the core, he snarled out, "Detention tonight at seven."

Snickers spread throughout the room as the Slytherins smirked at her. But he was sorely disappointed when instead of throwing a tantrum or getting herself into further trouble, the Granger girl nodded coldly and walked back to her desk and calmly packed her bag. When the bell rang, she was the first out.

Little did she know that it wouldn't actually be a real detention.

Xxx

She ate little, picking occasionally at her mashed potato. What little of her appetite was dispelled by the fact that she had her first detention ever that night, which wasn't helped by the realization that the teacher who had assigned the detention was Professor _Snape_ of all people.

That infuriating git! Despite herself, she found that her thoughts were drifting to the greasy haired man more often than normal. Wondering about his past and the man himself. His personality fluctuated wildly, one second he was concerned, the next a mean, heartless bastard.

She refused to give in to the temptation and look up at him.

Sighing, she focused on her surroundings again.

Harry sat next to her, laughing at something Ginny – who was on his other side – said. His face was glowing and so was hers. Obviously something was going on between them.

A quiet laugh drew her attention to the opposite side. Lavender brown was smiling at Ron, a slightly admiring look in her eyes.

Before the war, Lavender had been gossip queen. If that Lavender were in the present Lavender's place right now, she would have been giggling coquettishly and batting her eyelashes at Ron. But alas, the war had changed them all, some, like Lavender, for the better.

Ron put his arm around her shoulders and continued chatting, adoration in his eyes.

Casting her gaze further, she saw Neville facing away from the Gryffindor table, chatting passionately about something, perhaps herbology to the dreamy Luna Lovegood.

Sitting among happy couples made her keenly feel the distance that was gradually separating her from her friends. She smiled ruefully, once an oddity, always an oddity. When she had first come to Hogwarts, people disliked her for her know-it-all attitude and she was friendless until she met Harry and Ron. They were like her brothers.

And now everyone was drifting away.

She had never been able to feel completely at home in Gryffindor. Perhaps it was the grudge that she held for not being put in Ravenclaw. There was no one who understood her thirst for knowledge, not even the Ravenclaws.

She felt a pang within her. Maybe she would be cursed to live alone forever, her intelligence chasing off possible suitors. Feeling restless, she stood up to leave.

"Where you going, Hermione?" Harry looked questioningly at her.

"Oh, I'm just going to the library to get a head start on homework." Hermione smiled, "You know me, resident homework-lover."

Harry nodded a frown on his face. Had she said that a bit too fast and casually?

"Just don't forget about the torture session with Snape."

Ah. He was merely concerned that she would forget about her detention. "Professor Snape, Harry. And as if I would forget." She laughed slightly, it sounded a little forced, even to her.

Luckily though, he didn't notice, and nodded before turning back to Ginny.

She walked absentmindedly among the deserted corridors. Dinner had barely started after all. Pulling out the transfiguration book Professor McGonagall gave to her, she began to read, reverently turning the pages while keeping an eye out for obstacles.

_To learn the art of transforming into an animal at will requires the utmost concentration and determination. The first try is always the hardest and most taxing, not to mention the most dangerous. Lack of concentration during the first try may have a fatal result. Getting stuck in between forms and unable to change back is one of many dangers. _

She stopped reading to see where her feet had brought her. She had never been around this part of the castle before. Looking backwards, she saw the corridor which she had come from. Ah, so she was on the fifth floor. She continued walking along this small cramped space. There were no portraits on the old brick walls, which she found curious. Walking to the end of the corridor, she saw a small door.

It was very old and dusty. It was some sort of oak, with a brass handle. She reached out and pulled the handle and to her surprise, the door opened smoothly. Curiouser and curiouser.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

She gasped in wonder and awe at her surroundings. It was a small garden, but not claustrophobically small. A small bench sat next to the wall. But what caught her attention the most was the roses.

Roses in every hue of the rainbow, climbing the walls and adorning the sides of the bench. They floated on the breeze, their leaves and petals rustling quietly. Their sweet perfume wafted in the air, filling her with a deep calm.

From here, she could see the sloping hills stretch endlessly away. The lake glittered like a silver serpent, twisting between two hills. On the horizon, the sun was setting. The sky was blue turning to orange the nearer it was to the sun, before gradually fading into a dark purple on opposite sides of the sky. The puffy clouds were a light pink, tinged with purple. She continued watching until the entire sky had turned a dark blue, the stars beginning to wake.

She could feel the peace in this secluded nook. It made her feel like a small child again, wrapped in the protective arms of her mother and father. The thought of her parents broke her out of her reverie and made a wave of homesickness and sadness rushed through her. She hadn't seen her parents in years. All she could hope was that they were living a happy life in Australia.

Feeling melancholy, she sat down on the bench and pulled her shrunken homework out, resizing them as she did so. Suddenly she froze. Why did that just feel so weird? Then she realized what was wrong. Her right hand was empty. Reaching her hand into her robes again she pulled out her wand.

Eyes widening, she stared at her homework for a few seconds longer. She had just done wandless magic, small as it was. She grinned and flourished her wand with the incantation, "_Tempore_". Numbers appeared in the air and the time showed she still had one hour until her detention. Feeling assured, she began the task of completing her charms homework.

She lost herself in her homework and when she finally finished, she stopped for a second to stretch and rest her tired eyes. Suddenly she realized just how dark it got and froze. She hurriedly waved her wand again and let out a stream of profanity when she saw the time. She had five minutes until she had to get to her detention. Jumping to her feet, she resized all her homework and put it carefully in her pocket, then opened the door and ran.

Weaving through the corridors, down stairs and narrowly missing Peeves, she finally skidded to a halt outside the Potion's classroom. She bent over and panted while knocking the door and checking the time again. The numbers in the air showed her it was one minute 'til seven, which changed to seven as she watched. Her breath back, she straightened up and pulled at her robes and patted at her hair, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. She quickly hid her emotions, lest he use them to his advantage and provoke or ridicule her.

"Enter," his deep baritone voice sending shivers down her spine and a feeling of apprehension.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she opened the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** SORRY SO MUCH FOR TAKING MORE THAN A MONTH TO UPDATE! Real life is a real pain as I've said before. I've been buried beneath a mountain of homework and other commitments, and I've been unable to find time to update. I've also been elected as a middle school captain in my school, so I've been rather busy. Well, without further ado, HERE IS THE LONG AWAITED CHAPTER 10.

**Disclaimer:** All the characters and settings contained within this fanfiction belong to J.K. Rowling. I've just chosen to play with them a bit, :3. Btw, I'm Australian so my spelling is slightly different.

* * *

CHAPTER 10

Previously: _"Enter," his deep baritone voice sending shivers down her spine and a deep feeling of apprehension. _

_Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she opened the door._

The door creaked open, its ancient groaning grating on her nerves. She shivered and hesitated in the doorway, her eyes darting about, trying to find the instruments of torture that were… not there.

"Hurry up and get in, you little chit. Or haven't you finished gawking around at the room? I assure you, there is no table with chains or knives or any other instrument of torture." His mouth twisted in contempt, eyes sparking black flames.

She frowned at him, her eyes narrowing angrily. She stepped into the cold, dark room and shivered. Tendrils of cold curled around her, sucking away warmth. Her breath came out as vapour, crystallizing in the cold air. She rubbed her hands together, hoping the friction would warm them up.

Walking further into the room, she saw a torch flickering, the meagre light barely illuminating the wall of slate grey bricks upon which it was mounted.

"Miss Granger."

The whisper was so close to her ear that she jumped. Whirling around, she glared at the smirking professor.

"Come with me" He roughly pushed her out of the way, gliding forward, the hems of his robes brushing Hermione's feet as she tried to catch up with him.

He led her through another door, the snake on the front flicking its tongue as he muttered the password to open it. The room was pitch black, but marginally warmer than the big classroom.

"_Lumos"_

The torches flared to life, dancing and twisting in a hypnotic dance, throwing light into the room.

He swooped down upon a bench and planted himself squarely behind it, his hands clutching the edge of it. His sallow face framed by curtains of limp hair was shadowed, as the light was directly behind him.

Opening his mouth, he drawled "You will not be serving a detention today. I believe the cure to your… problem has not been created yet."

She raised her brows in disbelief. Opening her mouth, she was rudely interrupted by Snape.

"Close your mouth before a fly finds its way into it."

She kept silent, her anger slowly building up.

"As I was saying, over the course of the next few weeks we will be meeting every night at 8:30. During these weeks, we shall endeavour to develop a cure for your – relapses. Hopefully, you aren't as incompetent as I believe."

She opened her mouth, only to be interrupted yet again.

"I am looking for genuine intelligence and prowess with potions, rather than quoting the text books verbatim or following the recipe exactly as it says. True genii is by implementing your own ideas and changing the recipe to create a better potion without any side-effects. It is almost… unconscious."

She blinked in confusion. Why did he say so much to her? She peered more closely at his face but saw nothing except for the cold blank mask that was always present.

Frowning, he swooped over to the potions cabinet and perused the vials that were immaculately arranged, his fingers brushing over the tops as he scanned for the vial he was looking for. His hand suddenly stopped and plucked a sky blue potion out. Spinning around in a flurry of his robes, he handed the potion to her.

"Until we are able to find a cure to restore you to your previous health, you shall need to take a teaspoon of this every 24 hours. It lessens the chance of the relapse and the pain associated with it, but it is temporary and not 100 percent fail proof. As with all pain-relieving potions, it has a risk of becoming addictive."

Here he paused, his face becoming haunted as a shadow seemed to pass over his face. Had he had experience with pain-relieving potion addiction? Putting these thoughts in the back of her mind for later perusal, she accepted the potion, stowing it into her robes.

She stood there, not quite knowing what she was meant to do.

He noticed her standing there, still and frozen, and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He seemed to be considering something, his eyes calculating. Making his decision, he briskly trotted out through another door, muttering the password as he opened it.

Still not knowing what to do, she did what anyone would have done. She began to explore the potions lab. Opening cupboards, she saw a wide range of different sized cauldrons of different materials all ordered. Other cupboards revealed chopping boards, stirring rods and beakers.

"I see you're making yourself at home,"

The sarcastic comment made her jump and she spun around to glare at him, only to suddenly halt at the sight of him, or more accurately, the sight of the books currently cradled in his arms. It took all the self-restraint she had in her to not jump and snatch the books from him right then and there.

He smirked as if he could read her mind, "I thought we could begin by reading these books to find any diseases with symptoms like your predicament."

She barely heard him, her eyes quickly scanning the book titles. "May I read, then?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, none of these books are in the library, not even in the restricted section. I doubt you've even heard of most of them." He quietly set them down on a nearby desk and then sat himself down.

She sat down, putting her satchel next to her. Reaching in, she took out pieces of parchment, an inkpot and a quill. She grabbed a book off the pile and began reading, writing notes out as she did.

He watched her chewing on the ending of her quill in amusement, the barest hint of a smile upon his thin lips, which might have been mistaken as a smirk. Shaking his head slightly, he cursed himself for being distracted by her and began to read and take notes himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Hi guys, it's been a while. School's been super busy this term, and I guess it'll only become even more busier for the rest of the year. And I think I'm going to introduce a little more dark! perhaps?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or settings contained within this story. They belong to J.K. Rowling, however, the plot is mine.

* * *

CHAPTER 11

Previously: _He watched her chewing on the end of her quill in amusement, the barest hint of a smile upon his thin lips, which might have been mistaken as a smirk. Shaking his head slightly, he cursed himself for being distracted by her and began to read and take notes himself._

So absorbed was he in his work, that when he finally looked up, the candle on his desk had burnt down to a little stump in a pool of its own wax, the firelight flickering madly as it strove to stay alive on the meagre amount of candle left. Waving his wand, he lit another new candle and vanished the used one.

A painful crick had developed in his neck and his back was stiff. Oh, the glories of old age creeping up on him; the effects of the war taking its toll. He stretched tentatively, not wishing to strain himself and create extra damage. Starting with his head, he rolled it around several times, relieving the tensed muscles and removing the crick. He then stretched his arms, flexing his sore fingers as he did so. Arching his back and twisting from side to side, he could feel his spine crackling as it was forced to move after staying in a slumped position for so long.

A sound startled him from his cat-like stretching. Freezing, he snapped his gaze to the source, eyes softening as his eyes alighted upon the sight before him.

Hermione lay at the desk directly in front of him; books, parchment, a half empty inkpot and a beautiful speckled owl quill surrounding her upper body which was slumped on top of the table. The source of the sound was the gentle snoring that occasionally came out of her slightly open mouth, stirring the strands of hair hanging in front of her face. It was an adorable sight.

Did he just think of her as adorable?

Damn it. Damn it all to the ninth hell and further.

He sighed and continued to watch her, his mind warring with itself.

It wasn't as if he was the best looking man out there. He was deemed rather ugly, dubbed the 'Greasy bat of the dungeons'. A rather apt name, as his hair was so greasy it seemed as though he never washed it; the constantly billowing cloak like a pair of pitch black bat wings floating behind him.

He was ugly, old and twisted; an ex-deatheater. He'd tortured many people, watched them die, raped and tortured mercilessly; their screams still echoing in his dreams. He'd once been a follower of the Dark Lord – no, Voldermort – and believed that such activities were deemed acceptable. Oh, how he wanted to go back and smack his younger self on the back of his head.

And yet, somewhere deep in his cold, shrivelled up heart, a spark of hope still lived, a hope for redemption and for a friend who liked him for who he was and saw past all the shortcomings. A friend who had no wish to manipulate or use him to their own ends. A friend who might even progress to become more than friends.

He chuckled mentally, a bitter and cynical chuckle. Who could ever find him attractive? He didn't even believe in love, for Merlin's sake.

And yet, the spark still lived, hoping to be struck into a flame.

As these thoughts rushed through his head, he continued watching Hermione. She stirred slightly and he tensed, ready to shoot a cruel phrase at her as she woke up. But she merely rested her head more comfortably on her crossed arms, mumbling something incoherent as she did so.

Curiosity propelled him from out behind his desk and forward to where she was sleeping. He bent down low as she mumbled something again.

"No…don't…I can't take…anymore…" She muttered, her eyebrows wrinkling as she frowned.

Even more curious than before, he took out his wand. He knew he should not be doing this, but the temptation was too great.

"_Legilimens."_

He was instantly sucked into her vulnerable mind, deep in the place where all dreams come from.

Xxxx

_She writhed upon the ground as Bellatrix tortured her mercilessly. Hermione bit her lip until it bled, fighting the urge to scream out as Bellatrix directed crucio after crucio at her. _

Severus found himself watching helplessly as the expert torturer threw curse after curse at her; breaking her body and tearing her mind apart.

"_ENOUGH!" Hermione screamed at last, breaking her promise to keep silent._

"_The mudblood speaks at last. Took you long enough, I always believe torture truly does loosen one's tongue." Bellatrix cackled maniacally. _

"_So, you filthy whore, tell me about the sword," Fenrir's putrid breath breathed into her ear as she panted raggedly, trying to regain her breath._

_Slowly and painfully, she gathered spit into her mouth and spat it into Fenrir's eye. _

"_BITCH!" Fenrir cursed as he rubbed the moisture out of his eye. Hatred burning deep within his eyes, he backhanded her savagely, making her head snap to the right and the pain to flare again in her head._

Severus watched in horror, seeing what she had gone through for the first time. And suddenly a dizzy, gut-wrenching feeling seized him and the scene changed.

_Hermione weaved between flashes of green and red lights, missing death by inches, saved only by her quick reflexes and the small mouthful of felix felicis she had consumed. _

_Running up the stairs, a large form blocked her path; a large form wearing the all too familiar black robes and silver mask. _

Severus realized with a start that it was Dolohov. Narrowing his eyes, he continued watching the scene play out.

"_You little mudblood," he hissed. "Sectumsempra!"_

Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow. The great big brute must have overheard him using the spell and copied him.

_She ducked out of the way, but was a hair too slow. The curse clipped her on the right side of her chest, ripping great big gashes across the entirety of her arm all the way to mid thigh. She gasped in pain, staggering as the pain threatened to overwhelm her. The pain threatened to consume her, filling her vision with sickly red waves. Suddenly her survival instinct kicked in, the most basic instinct in any animal. Desperation and the will to survive twisted her wand around in her hand, pointing directly at Dolohov and a bright white light shot out the tip, catching the unready deatheater in the face._

_He screamed in pain, doubling over and clutching his face. Blood dripped slowly down his mask and he ripped it off. He collapsed onto the ground, writhing and screaming until eventually he stopped moving at all._

Frowning in confusion, Severus racked his mind for any spell that produced a white light. He couldn't come up with anything.

_Hermione slumped, blood slowly pooling around her, congealing in the cold air. Slowly turning her head, she looked right at him, mouthing the words, "save me."_

He froze in place, trying to convince himself that this was all unreal and that even if he tried to save her, it wouldn't work. But those dark brown eyes plead with him, piercing through his eyes and striking deep within his soul. He found himself moving toward her, his feet propelling him without any conscious direction.

Kneeling down beside her, he picked up her cold lifeless hand, slightly surprised when he made contact with her solid and tangible limb. "I'm here."

She smiled, her brown eyes already clouding over. "Thank…you…" she whispered quietly and her hand fell to the ground.

Anguish filled him, an anguish that he could not comprehend. "NO!" He yelled out, as he gathered her into his arms, only for her to dissipate into mist.

And he was wrenched back into reality, rearing back in shock. He stared at her as she woke up.

xxxx

She gasped and bolted up, panting for breath as her latest violent dream left her reeling as usual. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings, of the hair that stuck to her sweaty face and of the papers and quills surrounding her. Dread filling her, she looked up to meet the obsidian black eyes of Professor Snape.

She furrowed her brow in confusion. She remembered her dream exactly, and what she remembered was different than the ones she normally had. For one, Snape had been in the Dolohov scene and he had… helped her; that was very uncharacteristic of him. Had he actually been in the dream? His stare was unnerving to say the least.

She studied him back in turn as she thought.

His knuckles were white where they were clutching the edge of the table in a tight grip. His sallow face was several shades lighter than normal and his mask was barely in place. His eyes were drawn tight together and his brow was wrinkled slightly.

She broke out of her trance when he suddenly stood up.

"Miss Granger, you should be getting back to your dormitory. It is well past midnight."

She nodded slightly and bent her head to sort her belongings and clean the desk.

xxxx

He watched her do so under hooded lids, his mind also reeling.

When she finished packing her bag, she put it onto her shoulder and gathered his books like they were precious gems. Walking up to him with her head bowed, she handed the books over. Turning around, she quickly walked to the exit of the potions classroom.

When she was nearly out of the door, he called out, "Good night, Miss Granger."

She stumbled, and turning around, she smiled slightly, "Good night… sir."

And so saying, she quickly ducked out of the room, the smile widening as she walked toward her dormitory.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Yay, extra long chapter because of extra long wait, lol. I think I'll only manage once every three weeks or monthly updates. School work is catching up... OAO... No beta this time, either. I'm too lazy... OAO.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters or settings contained in this fic. If I did, I wouldn't have to be so damn poor with only 20$ food money per week, lol.

* * *

Chapter 12

"Phoenix tears." Hermione quietly murmured the password, slipping through the portrait as it smoothly swung open.

"Hermione!" Draco's 'trying to look irritated but failing and looking extremely anxious and worried face' looked up from his pacing. "Where were you?"

She laughed slightly and swatted at his arm as he chivalrously pulled her bag off her shoulder and deposited it on the couch in front of the roaring fire.

"There's no need to worry about me –"

"The hell there isn't! What with your nightmares and fragile disposition." His lip twitched in betrayal to his jibe.

She glared at him, "Well, if you'd stop interrupting me about my 'fragile disposition', I would have told you that I had a detention with Professor Snape."

His eyebrow arched up, "He kept you working until midnight?"

She shook her head slightly, "Well… not really."

Draco's eyebrow rose higher towards his hair line. "Elaborate."

She raised her own challenging eyebrow. "Stop trying to imitate Professor Snape, you're not very intimidating."

He huffed in indignation, dropping the eyebrow.

She shook her head and continued with the explanation, shedding her robes and sitting down on the couch. He perched on the arm of the armchair nearest the fire.

"Well, instead of having me scrub the cauldrons or clean the desks or whatever he usually makes you do, he made me do some research on… a disease which currently has no cure. He even let me use some of the books which I believe come from his personal library."

Both of his eyebrows rocketed up, threatening to go straight off his forehead. "He, Severus Snape, let you do some researching instead of punishment? Not to mention letting you handle his beloved books from his personal library? Not even I am allowed this privilege, and I'm his God-son!"

She scrunched her eyebrows pensively, confusion marring her features. This was certainly something to think about.

Draco hopped up to his feet, "Hermione, you better get to bed. We still have classes tomorrow."

She nodded and stood up too. Stretching up, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Thanks for worrying about me, ferret."

He blushed mightily and mumbled, "I wasn't worried about you! And stop calling me ferret."

She laughed, "Good night… ferret."

Draco shook his head ruefully and walked toward the door to his own rooms, "Good night, Granger."

Xxxx

Tossing and turning, no matter how many sheep she counted, sleep just wouldn't come to her. Giving up and classifying it as a hopeless case, she lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling.

Her thoughts immediately turned to the person who had preoccupied her pondering mind for the past week, Professor Snape.

What happened in his past that made him react when mentioning the possible consequence of addiction to potions? He didn't seem the type to indulge in addictive potions that made one high. And being a potions master, shouldn't he be aware of all possible repercussions?

Anti-depressants? An idea worth thinking over, but she couldn't imagine him being anything other than depressing.

Despite her previous misgivings, she knew she should get some sleep. And the only way to do that with herself in this state was to down some dreamless sleep.

She left the warmth of the bed and padded silently to the desk next to the wall. Opening the drawer, she pulled the potion phial out. Carefully measuring a spoonful, she swallowed it. Putting the vial back into the drawer, she walked back to the bed, already feeling the drowsy effect of the potion.

She was asleep before her head even touched the pillow.

xxxx

She woke up to a cold, stuffy nose and stiff limbs. Sitting up and stretching, she was suddenly struck by the feeling of monotony. How many times had she woken up in the same way at Hogwarts? The past seven years. Every day was the same tedious things over and over again. Learning things she already knew and forced to lag behind and do the same work as her peers.

Perhaps the only things remotely interesting in her life were the detentions – sessions – with Professor Snape. Oh, the irony of it all.

Still, it didn't do to dwell on such bleak thoughts.

She stood up and went through her daily morning rituals, remembering to take a tablespoon of the potion Professor Snape gave her.

Xxxx

"Mornin', Hermione!"

"Good morning, Ron. Ugh! Stop talking and chew!" She frowned in disgust at his atrocious table manners.

Feeling a prickling sensation on the back of her head, she looked up at the Head table and saw a pair of onyx black eyes staring back. Their eyes immediately slid apart, and her face burned in embarrassment. Ducking her head, she sat down next to Ginny, a plate immediately materializing in front of her, heaped high with buttered toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. The sight made her feel sick and she pushed the plate away from her.

"Hey, Hermione, you want to come with us to the Quidditch trials tomorrow?" Harry, Ginny and Ron – still stuffing his face – looked at her hopefully.

"Uh, I've got extra projects to study and I have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey tomorrow." She shook her head and tried to smile apologetically.

Their faces fell slightly, but they nodded in understanding.

"You really should go out in the sun a bit more, your skin is getting awfully pale. Who knows? You might even end up like Snape." Ron joked, his mouth blessedly empty.

A sudden rage overcame her and she stood up, bracing her hands on the edge of the table, "My personal health is of no concern to you!" She hissed, glaring across the table at Ron.

"And can you stop disrespecting Professor Snape? He is a hero, he's done much more for the cause than anyone else. He's suffered the most and sacrificed the most. Have you ever thought about what he's had to live through each day? Caught between two masters, treading the knife edge, his life constantly in jeopardy?"

Ron drew back, his hands up, trying in vain to placate the angry witch who was leaning further and further over across the table. "It was just a joke, 'Mione, don't take it so seriously!" He grinned.

Suddenly the pressure of all her rage of everything, the insignificant things to the anger that she had been holding in all these years grew unbearable and she snapped. Taking her right hand back, she slapped him as hard as she could, hitting him clean off the bench and painfully onto his bottom on the floor

She shook with her rage, "Eat with your mouth closed, and _don't _call me 'Mione ever again. My name is Hermione."

With that she spun around and stalked out of the Great Hall, hands clenched around her rucksack, breakfast forgotten.

"What did I say?" he asked in true puzzlement to the whole table in general.

"Everything wrong, mate." Seamus shook his head and turned back to his breakfast.

xxxx

A pair of inscrutable and pitch black eyes watched from the front of the room, confused and amused.

Everyone had heard the words of the bushy haired Head Girl. How embarrassing it might be for her. But the confusing part was why she had defended him against her friends. He frowned, he didn't want her pity. The mere thought was nauseous. His mood suitably ruined for the day, he stood up and left the hall again in a swirl of his robes.

Xxxx

Hermione huffed angrily, partly in embarrassment as she left the Great Hall. "Stupid men."

She strode as fast as possible, each powerful stride helping to bring down the burning hot anger that roared in her ears and sent her blood pounding through her head.

Looking up, she found herself in front of the old oak door again. She smiled a genuine smile and the anger that had been swirling around in her mind melted away as she opened the door.

The roses once again greeted her with their perfume and beautiful array of colours. Taking in several deep breaths, she closed her eyes, letting the peaceful serenity of the rose garden calm her down.

She lifted a slightly trembling hand and pulled her hair up into a messy bun, sticking a hastily transfigured hair stick into it.

She sat down on the bench and pulled her rucksack out, summoning _Ye Booke to Animagi Transformation_ wandlessly, still thrilled with her recent discovery of this new ability.

Curiosity temporarily overpowering the intense urge to continue reading the book to becoming an animagus, she set it aside and took several deep breaths. Sitting up straight, she thought to begin with the simplest of spells and work up from there.

"_Wingardium Leviosa."_

A great pressure pushed down on the book, preventing it from rising.

Where did this pressure come from? And the answer dawned on her, air pressure and gravity. Nature was conspiring against this raw output of power.

She strained, her face set in determined lines as sweat began gathering on her nose. The book rose jerkily up one inch, two inches… and dropped as the strain grew unbearable.

But instead of being discouraged, she grinned in triumph. She felt severely drained and was glad she was sitting, otherwise her legs would have buckled.

Pulling out her wand, she waved it and murmured, "_Tempore". _Great, she still had some time until second period. She had some reading to catch up with.

Reaching out her hand, she picked the book up and opened it to where she left off.

xxxx

As the students filed out of the classroom, Hermione stood a little to the side, waiting for the room to become empty as she wished to speak to Professor McGonagall – no, Minerva.

"Hermione! I take it you have finished reading and memorising the book I lent you?" Minerva ushered her down into a recently transfigured armchair, taking a seat opposite her. "Dinky!"

A house elf with gigantic eyes and a grey towel with the Hogwarts crest on it appeared between Hermione and Minerva with a crack, startling Hermione.

"May I have some tea, please?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, yes! Dinky will serve."

And with another crack, Dinky disappeared, only to reappear again seconds later bearing a tray with two cups of tea.

Minerva smiled at Hermione, which she tentatively returned, "Here, you can have some tea while we discuss your latest assignment. Sugar and milk?"

"No thank you, I like my tea black." She smiled and accepted the steaming cup of tea, appreciatively inhaling the steam curling up from it.

Minerva spooned a teaspoon of sugar into her cup and briskly stirred it. Settling back in her own armchair, she peered at Hermione above her spectacles in a manner reminiscent of Professor Dumbledore.

Hermione set her cup of tea down and fished _Ye Booke to Animagi Transformation _out of her rucksack and lay it gently down on the coffee table in between them. "It was utterly fascinating, I've memorised it all down to the word!"

Minerva smiled, "Of course you would, Hermione. Now, the one thing this book did not mention was that there is no spell or any trick to transforming. You just have to be."

Hermione frowned, "Be? How do you just _be _and transform?"

Minerva shook her head slightly, "Transforming does require fierce concentration, but it requires you to entirely long for it. You must long for it with all your heart and your mind, and you require a catalyst. A reason is required."

"A reason? What do you mean?" Hermione asked quizzically.

"Look at the marauders. How did they become animagi in their fifth year? It was all motivation and the desire to help, the desire to help a comrade.

"Remus Lupin was a werewolf, and his friends Pettigrew, Sirius and James all wished to accompany him in the time of his greatest need. Their motivation to help him and their hearts was what caused their transformation to be possible.

"And your reason for the transformation can influence what animal form you shall take. In the marauder's case, they were all creatures that weren't overly threatening, cute or useless to be around a werewolf.

"James and Sirius together – a stag and a dog – could have a chance to hold Remus down if he was out of control. Pettigrew, the rat, was nimble and small enough to escape from the werewolf."

She took a sip from her quickly cooling tea. "And this is where you may ask me questions." Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Hermione shook her head ruefully, "Wow. I'm not sure I have a reason big enough to create such a change."

Minerva sighed, "It will come to you at the time you need it, God knows it to did me."

Hermione bit her lower lip and blurted out, "I don't mean to pry, but –"

Minerva cut her off, "How did I get my transformation?"

Hermione nodded, blushing furiously.

Minerva smiled, "It's alright, I'll tell you."

"It was a horribly cold, rainy and windy night at Hogsmeade. The rain was driven ruthlessly by the strongest gales I've ever experienced. It was total darkness, lit only by occasional flashes of lightning. Eventually the sticky mud, lack of illumination and uneven footing paid off and I tripped, falling into an extremely deep trench. To make matters worse, with a resounding crack, a tree fell on top of the trench, effectively trapping me in.

"At the time I was sixteen, attending Hogwarts and was horridly drunk; I was on my way back to Hogwarts. I didn't know what to do, as my wand got lost somewhere when I fell. The rain, thunder and darkness overwhelmed me and I just sat there crying.

"But this sudden rush of desperation and determination filled me to the brim, and I just wished so hard that I could escape from this trap. And suddenly, the world shifted on its axis and everything become so much larger. It took me a few seconds to realize I had transformed.

"Following my new form's instinct, I easily scaled the branches and landed back on ground. By some miracle, I managed to locate my wand. By that time I was completely sober, terror and a near death experience can do that to a person." She chuckled.

"And from there I managed to remember to cast _lumos _and I waited out the storm. I finally got back to Hogwarts in the morning and received a month of detentions with the worst teacher at the time, Professor Perriwell, for my troubles."

Hermione arched an incredulous eyebrow.

Minerva chuckled again, setting down her empty cup. "I know. Me? The sternest teacher in the school having such an adventure and receiving such punishment?"

Hermione nodded and laughed, "It's just hard imagining you being drunk."

They chuckled together, leaning back in their seats.

Minerva stood up, "Well, I believe you may go now. The only thing you need do now is to find your reason."

Standing up, she kissed Minerva on the cheek and waved, "See you next week, Minerva."

Minerva shooed her out of the room affectionately, "Good bye, Hermione."

Xxxx


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters or settings contained in this story. But I do wish I own Snape. I'LL JUST BUY ONE OF THOSE CARDBOARD CUT OUTS THEN!

**A/N: **Hi guys -ducks rotten eggs and tomatoes- I'm SO sorry for abandoning you all for such a long time, but I just sort of lost my motivation I guess... Not to mention school is playing havoc with my life. BUT HEY! I'M BACK AND POSTING AGAIN, even if this chapter is rather short. Don't worry, I've found my motivation again.

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**REDEMPTION **Chapter 13

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His limbs froze and his legs locked together, forcing him to fall down. With a sickening crunch, his nose met the ground and broke; the blood and pain momentarily blinded him.

Whispers sounded somewhere above him. There were three people – no - four.

A large foot kicked him so he was now facing up. Through blurry, blood-filled eyes he saw his attackers.

Four boys stood above him, brandishing wands. They were all Slytherin sixth years.

The boy standing at the left – Corwyn Matthews - hissed, "You are a dirty, disgusting mudblood loving traitor! You're a disgrace to us Slytherins."

His mind raced for ways to escape this tricky predicament.

The tall brawny one – Christopher Ackinson, son of a death eater of the lower ranks - with black hair standing at the middle – obviously the leader – pocketed his wand and kicked Draco's head savagely, making it snap to the left. "You know, it's people like you that disgust me the most, Draco." He drawled his name in a parody of a lover's endearment.

"You are a turncoat. A wimp. You utterly sicken me." He ground the heel of his right foot on Draco's right hand, feeling the bones grind and break.

Draco groaned silently in pain, head spinning slightly.

"I used to look up to you, you know?" A slim blonde boy – Cecil Elwood - piped up. "You were always so cool; so suave; so arrogant. Everyone looked up to you; you were what everyone WANTED to be."

The only boy who hadn't talked yet - whom Draco did not know - crossed his arms. "But, look at you now, panting after that little mudblood. It's repulsive and utterly degrading. You make the rest of us look bad."

Ackinson crouched down, smoothing Draco's messy hair back, "Draco," he said in a sad voice.

Draco wanted to shudder and hurl his lunch up from this sick touch.

"What happened to you?" Ackinson's fingers trailed down Draco's cheek, drawing lines through the blood. "Why did you suddenly lose faith in everything that we stood for? Why do you now consort with the lowest of filth? Why did you abandon us in the time of need?" He whispered insidiously.

He sighed and sat back on his feet, pulling his wand out and_ scourgifying_ the blood from his hand and Draco. "I really don't wish to do this, Draco, but I have no choice. The majority of Slytherin house has decided your fate."

With a sinking heart, Draco listened to the ominous words, pulse racing and sweat trickling down his neck. '_I'm REALLY in trouble and I need help. As much as I hate to admit it, I won't be able to deal with this by myself, seeing as I'm currently petrified.' _He thought desperately.

Clambering back up to his feet, Ackinson rolled his wand around in his fingers. Everyone held their breath, looking at him.

When he spoke, his voice was full of authority and power; Draco inadvertently began trembling.

"From this day onwards, Draco Lucius Malfoy shall no longer be considered one of our brethren. We sunder his connection to Slytherin; we sunder his connection to our ancestor, the great Salazar Slytherin. We shall no longer protect him as we do for one of our own, nor will we help him when he needs it. Draco, you will only be a Slytherin in name. We sunder you!"

Draco cried out silently in pain, something deep within his heart snapping. Something he had never noticed - a warm and constant companionship; a deep connection to the Slytherin house – was suddenly gone, its absence a painful loss.

They spat on his still form and left quickly, afraid to be caught.

Why _had _he changed? _When _had he changed? He had changed in his sixth year when he was saddled with the terrible duty of killing the headmaster. Changed on the night when he had the dark mark branded on his arm and his soul and all the illusions of grandeur was destroyed and he was slapped in the face with reality. On that cold and rainy day when his father was sentenced to Azkaban for seven years and his mother forced on house arrest, her face deathly pale yet still elegantly noble. Changed the week after the sentencing of his parents, when Potter had testified for him, and he was granted freedom and the epiphany of what freedom meant.

He had changed the day he returned back to Hogwarts - a destroyed and crumbling Hogwarts which had been more of a home than his cold Malfoy Manor - and threw himself, body and soul, into repairing what he had wrought. Lying awake at nights for fear of the nightmares haunting him again, vowing to change what he once was; vowing to change his views on the world.

He lay on the floor, tears trickling out of his eyes and down the sides of his face to the cold stone floor.

xxxx


End file.
